


Swords Up, Shields Down

by Strawberry_Champagne



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fic within a Fic, Mid-Canon, Nipple Play, One Shot, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Champagne/pseuds/Strawberry_Champagne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra finishes the latest installment of Swords & Shields and desperately needs to know what happens next. Things take a surprisingly heated turn when Varric gives her a private reading of the next chapter's rough draft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swords Up, Shields Down

Varric was knee-deep in another night of mind-numbing guild paperwork when he heard a familiar clomp of boots striding up the Skyhold main hall. Expecting that Cassandra was on her way to give someone a piece of her mind and not remembering pissing her off _lately_ , he didn't bother to look up.

“You did this on purpose,” came a voice just over his left shoulder. “To... torment me. You _knew_ I would need to know...and after how the last one ended!”

Ah. So she had finally found the time to finish it. Relishing the moment, Varric waited another beat or two before setting his pen aside and turning to face her. Cassandra looked as if she had been in a hurry to get there from wherever she had been reading. Her cheeks were flushed and hair disheveled, short spikes sticking up in the back. She looked annoyed, yes, but also... exhilarated. Varric chuckled, unable to hide a self-satisfied smirk.

“That's the whole point, Cassandra,” he said. “If you felt like the characters were safe, you wouldn't be so anxious to read the next one.”

“So there _will_ be a next one.” It was not a question, sounding like half a threat, half barely-contained eagerness. She crossed her arms as if daring him to contradict her.

“Honestly, I hadn't planned on continuing _Swords & Shields_ in the first place, you know. I wrote that chapter as a personal favor. And...well...the look on your face...”

“Varric.” Cassandra snapped his name like a whip. Seeming to realize how demanding she sounded, she softened her tone. “I...surely you have written more? It has been over a month. Even if it is not finished–”

Varric knew that she was a fan, but he had no idea that Cassandra's obsession with his smutty adventure novels was this bad. For one thing, he hadn't been exaggerating when he told the Inquisitor that the series was absolutely terrible. It was run-of-the-mill purple prose erotica, really, written initially for shits and giggles. It turned out that he could only write so many phallic metaphors before it started getting old.

At the same time, having such an avid fan—especially one as hilariously improbable as Cassandra, of all people—did inspire a certain amount of creativity. He had, in fact, almost finished the next chapter already. It was one of his best...wait, no...worst? At any rate, he was sure _Cassandra_ would love it. It was almost adorable how her eyes lit up when he told her as much.

“Now, I have to warn you, it's still just a rough draft,” Varric said.

“I don't care about that. I want to know what happens to the Knight-Captain. If she is able to escape...if her lover finds her again...” Cassandra flushed, seemingly embarrassed by her obvious need. It tugged at the old heartstrings.

“I shouldn't have told you until it was done,” said Varric, chuckling. “Tell you what. I can't let you borrow the manuscript, seeing as it's my only copy of the thing. But we can set up a time for you to read it in my study, if you're so keen to find out what happens next.” 

Cassandra's mouth twisted as she considered this offer, but it didn't take long for her curiosity to win out.

“We have a deal,” she said. “Tomorrow evening? Just after sundown, perhaps.”

Cassandra, Varric was sure, probably thought she was being very fair in not demanding to read it that very evening. He stuck out his hand, which she shook with a dignity that was almost laughable considering what had been agreed upon.

“Until tomorrow, Seeker.”

****

It stormed all the next day, sending the denizens of Skyhold scurrying to the nearest warm building and revealing the many flaws in the fortress's endless roofing repairs. The halls were filled with makeshift leak-catchers, drips clanging on cooking pots and gathering in treacherous puddles on the smooth stone floors. As for Varric, as soon as his part in the daily Inquisition-business was complete, he holed up in his quarters with a good book and two fingers of fine Ferelden whiskey. 

He had almost forgotten about the previous evening's promise when Cassandra rapped her knuckles on his door. He supposed it must be about the right time, though it was difficult to tell with the sky darkened by clouds. Ushering the Seeker in, Varric shuffled through his desk's pile of half-finished manuscripts while she hovered near the door awkwardly, clearing her throat and shifting from foot to foot.

“Aha! Here it is. Please, make yourself comfortable.” He gestured toward a soft-cushioned chaise, and as she arranged herself there, he considered his liquor collection and snatched up a bottle.

“Terrible stuff,” he confided, pouring a pale amber liquid into a wine glass he'd set on the low table in front of Cassandra. “Sweet enough to make your teeth ache. But it's a perfect match for this, ah—"

“Literature,” she ventured, and he smiled magnanimously.

“That...is a _very_ generous word for it, Cassandra. Well. Enjoy.” Spreading his arms with a half-bow, he backed away from the table and returned to his own reading chair. 

After a few minutes, though, Varric heard furious paper-rustling and Cassandra's sound of frustration at the other end of the room. She couldn't be done with it already... He sighed, setting his book down once again.

“Problems?”

“Yes,” said Cassandra. “I can't read your... _chicken_ scratch.” She brandished the sheaf of paper at him, holding it out as if he didn't know what his own penmanship looked like.

“Gentle, gentle!” Varric tugged it by degrees out of her hand, smoothing the wrinkles where she had clutched it. The slanted, narrow letters were perfectly legible as far as he was concerned. “See there? 'He slid a hand down to the curve of Knight-Captain Valina's hip, resting there as he leaned forward for a slow and sensual kiss. She could feel his arousal growing...”

“Wait, don't skip ahead! I have not even read how he finds her yet...” Cassandra reached out for the papers, which he snatched back and held to his chest. Maker, but she could be bossy.

“Alright, first of all, I'm not skipping ahead. Never heard of opening with some of the juicy bits? It's a time skip thing. Explains how they got there after.”

Cassandra's eyebrow arched. She took the manuscript back when Varric held it out, but just stared down at it, shaking her head.

“I still cannot read it. It's like scribbled nonsense.” Her brow wrinkled. “Could you...perhaps just read it to me?”

Well, she made it sound so reasonable when she said it like that. Varric laughed.

“You really want me to? It gets pretty filthy.”

Cassandra looked thoughtful, but finally nodded. “Yes. I will close my eyes and listen. I...must know what happens.”

Oh, this was going to be far too entertaining. Varric cleared his throat dramatically, flipping through the pages.

“More wine?” he said, glancing down at Cassandra's half-empty glass. She hesitated, then nodded once. 

“Let's see, where were we...ah, yes. His arousal...”

Varric read the first scene of the chapter with his best story-telling voice, smooth and richly toned, doing his best to match the story's ridiculously over-the-top sensuality. Cassandra's eyes fluttered shut, one hand grasping the wine glass's delicate stem and ever so often raising it to her lips for a sip. Varric was glad that the Seeker trusted him like this now—they certainly still had their differences and occasional rows, but he never would have imagined them in anything close to this scenario even a few months ago. She appeared far more relaxed that he was used to seeing her, even tucking her legs up onto the chaise after a little while. He imagined that the wine helped with this.

They were getting to the bits that he had warned Cassandra about. She appeared unperturbed so far, so he soldiered on.

“The Knight-Captain tugged at the stiff strings of her lover's breeches, freeing his erect member.” Maker, had he really written this shit? Must've been pretty deep in his cups to be using words like 'member,' ironically-bad erotica or no. “She encircled his length with one hand, and listened to the groan elicited by her thumb sliding over the tip.”

Was that a tiny gasp from Cassandra? Varric glanced up, peering at her expression, but only noted some high points of color in her cheeks—just as easily caused by the newly-drained wine glass.

“He thrust shallowly into her hand,” he continued, “groaning and exploring her exposed bosom with his mouth and fingers. Her nipples stiffened under his attentions, and she could feel her sex becoming wet with anticipation. She was ready for him.”

There was no mistaking it, now. Cassandra was definitely breathing differently, legs moving restlessly from tucked beneath her to crossed and back again. It was a slow, subtle movement, but not one that escaped Varric's notice. He smirked behind the pages.

“That's the end of the first scene. Like I said. Just _part_ of the juicy bits. Another glass of wine?” he asked. Cassandra looked up, blinking, as if coming out of a trance.

“Hm? Oh, no. Thank you. I...must be going, actually.” She rose from the chaise a bit unsteadily. 

“Really, so soon? That's too bad. We were just about to find out how she escapes from prison!”

Cassandra nodded, absently. “Yes. I will want to know what happens...later. I have...duties.”

She left in a hurry, the door swinging shut behind her, leaving Varric to try not to think too hard about what those “duties” might entail.

****

Varric figured that would probably be the end of it. In the following morning's meeting, Cassandra wouldn't look him in the eye, only acknowledging his presence when he spoke to her directly. He imagined it would take a few days for her to get over her embarrassment, and then things would go back to normal. As normal as it ever got when you were fighting a red lyrium infused madman who came back from the dead and put a big green hole in the sky, anyway.

It came as a mild shock, then, when a knock came at the door the next evening—more hesitant, this time. Varric let Cassandra in, then waited for her to speak first.

“...The next part is her escape from the prison, yes?”

No smutty bits, was what she wasn't saying. Varric smiled.

“Well, I wouldn't want to spoil it for you...”

Cassandra arched a brow.

“...But yes. Plenty of action, swashbuckling heroics, sword-fights and - “

“Enough,” she said, holding out a hand. The woman was serious about her spoilers. “Are you...have I interrupted anything?”

Had she? Not really. More paperwork, which could wait for the moment. That shit could always wait. If it hadn't been Cassandra, Varric probably would have tracked down the Inquisitor for a game or two of Wicked Grace.

“I'm all yours,” he said.

The amber wine and a clean glass were still on the table, and Varric indicated that Cassandra could help herself. She hesitated for only a moment before uncorking the bottle and giving herself a generous pour. Varric settled on the other end of the sofa, flipping through the pages to where they had left off.

Cassandra listened raptly as Varric described the Knight-Captain's daring escape from the prison, sneaking through torchlit corridors, fighting through the castle's guards and the evil nobles who had sought to frame her for the crime she did not commit. She was, Varric noted, the ideal audience, gasping and exclaiming at all the right places, to the point that even he was starting to enjoy what he had long ago dismissed as his worst serial. Wine and brandy poured freely between them, lanterns and candles lit as the sky darkened outside Varric's chambers. 

“Valina's horse's stamina was beginning to flag when she spotted the light of a campfire in the distance, hidden in the hollow of the dusky cliffs.

'We're almost there,' she whispered, and the stallion seemed to sense her urgency, pounding its hooves in a gallop across the stretch of sand. The fire's bright flicker drew closer, her breath quickening, heart racing. It was him. It had to be him.”

Cassandra seemed to be holding her breath. Normally, Varric would have taken this opportunity to tease the Seeker mercilessly, but... it just didn't feel right, this time. Her cheeks were flushed with wine and anticipation, hands plucking anxiously at a decorative pillow in her lap. He read on.

“She slowed to a trot at the edge of camp, sliding off the saddle before the horse had stopped completely. At first glance around the fire, she detected no one, her heart freezing in an icy grip. Then Danik stepped out from around a rocky outcropping, eyes widening as he spotted his lover. Valina took in his disheveled appearance, as if he had been riding tirelessly for days, new half-healed wounds and scars that she yearned to touch and kiss one by one.”

“Oh,” said Cassandra, softly. Her fingers curled around the pillow.

“'I see you've denied me the privilege of rescuing you,' he said with a rueful grin. The Knight-Captain laughed, half-mad with relief.

'I have no doubt it would have been a magnificent one,' she said. 

Danik laughed softly at this, eyes crinkling at the corners.

'Please come inside, my love,' he said, leading her by the hand into his small but spacious tent. Valina could tell at a glance that he had been camped there for a while, and this hunch was supported by the maps and papers strewn about—some crumpled, others scratched out and rewritten. One was pinned to a table in the corner of the room, 'TOMORROW IS THE DAY” scrawled across it in a broad, familiar hand. Valina's heart swelled all the more with love for this man.

As she took this all in, Danik turned and gathered her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead, each cheek, and finally capturing her lips with his own. They drank each other in like parched desert wanderers, greedy for the touch that they had long been denied.”

Varric lowered the pages, prepared to make a self-deprecating comment or two about how utterly garbage this damn serial was—but Cassandra was listening raptly, eyes wide and shining. She had to know what would be coming next, and Varric watched her face for any sign of embarrassment or discomfort. In the end, though, she knew what kind of story she had been getting into, didn't she? She _had_ asked him to read it to her, knowing that.

The story repeated the scene that had been placed as a teaser at the beginning of the chapter, which Varric once again read aloud. He paused to offer Cassandra another drink, which she politely refused, still clutching the pillow before her.

“Danik lowered Valina to the soft bed roll, her auburn hair fanning against the pillows,” Varric read. Maker knew why the man had been lugging bedding and pillows through the desert on a covert rescue mission. It just wasn't very sexy to be pushed down onto a bare tent floor, not to mention all the sand that was bound to be everywhere.

“She gasped as her lover slid down her body, nose brushing against the soft hair surrounding her sex, which throbbed with desire for him. Danik stroked his tongue along the folds, flicking against the sensitive pearl of pleasure at its apex. Valina shuddered as he continued to work at her, could feel her climax building, about to crash over her like an ocean wave.”

Varric looked up, noting that Cassandra had been very quiet and still. She was blushing deeply, pupils blown wide with...arousal? Now it was Varric's turn to be a bit discomfited—suddenly struck by the intimacy of their situation, which he had thought nothing of when he had invited his friend up to his chambers. He had just been looking for some cheap entertainment, as per usual—a man and a woman, both unattached, drinking by candlelight, reading pornographic adventure stories to each other. You know. As you do. His attempt at a bemused chuckle died in his throat in the face of that _look_ in her eyes. Varric couldn't describe it if he tried.

Returning his attention to the manuscript, Varric flipped to the next page—only to be greeted with a lily-white sheet of paper. Blank. He hadn't finished the chapter...or, he had, but he hadn't written it down yet. Varric vaguely remembered an emergency Inquisition meeting, something about Venatori encampments, and the story had been set aside. With only a page or two to go, he had completely forgotten the interruption and assumed the draft was complete. Shit.

Varric glanced up at Cassandra, watching him expectantly.

“That's all I have,” he said. No point in beating around the bush, after all. “Like I said, it's just the rough draft.”

Varric wasn't prepared for the crushing disappointment on Cassandra's face, there for only a moment before she was able to recover. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but...this was like kicking a puppy. A very large, sword-wielding puppy.

“Hang on,” he said quickly, as Cassandra swung her legs off the chaise and made to stand. “If you want to hear the rest...”

That look of dawning hope decided it. Varric set the manuscript down on the table.

“I have the ending in here,” he said, tapping his temple. “I can tell you it from memory. If you like.”

Cassandra's eyes widened, and for a few breathless seconds, she considered the offer. Ultimately, her curiosity won out.

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

“Great,” Varric said enthusiastically. Internally, he immediately regretted his rash decision. It was one thing to read from the page, glancing up at the Seeker from time to time to gauge her reactions. Quite another thing to recite pornographic passages with nowhere for his eyes to hide from hers. Varric had always considered himself more-or-less unflappable, unable to be shamed or embarrassed. This situation should have been _hilarious._ And yet, somehow, it was not.

“Avel...shit, I mean, Valina,” he began. Smooth, Varric. “Valina gasped as Danik drew her pearl into his mouth, shivering apart as he suckled at the sensitive nub. She caught her breath beside her lover, who gently ran his hands through her hair and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder.”

Cassandra shifted on the chaise, and now Varric was unable to ignore how the story was clearly affecting her. _He_ was doing this to her. And she was letting him. Maker. He cursed internally as he realized his cock was stirring to attention, trying to think unsexy thoughts. Undead warriors. The Iron Bull eating a whole roasted chicken. Corypheus's ugly face.

It worked. Sort of.

“'You are so beautiful.'”

Cassandra's eyes widened, mouth parting ever so slightly.

“...said Danik,” Varric continued, and shit, did Cassandra look disappointed just now? That had to be his imagination.

“Valina smiled, pulling Danik closer for a languid, passionate kiss. Their breath intermingled, lips meeting and then breaking apart again, tongues chasing and exploring. Valina moaned as Danik dragged his teeth across her lower lip, his hand finding a breast and kneading softly.”

Varric didn't know how he was continuing this story, staring into those eyes and listening to Cassandra's uneven breathing. He spoke without conscious thought, memorized words spilling from his tongue. Idly, he wondered if he looked as terrified as he felt. Usually he was good at hiding such things, but...

“Varric,” said Cassandra, snapping him out of his daze. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, stripped of all its defenses and sharp edges.

“Cassandra?” he answered. His voice absolutely did _not_ waver.

There was steel in her gaze, a familiar determination.

“Maker preserve me if I am wrong about this,” she whispered roughly. Before he could ask what she meant, Varric suddenly had a lap full of Seeker, her muscular thighs straddling his. Alarms went off in his head, but a small voice whispered _just go with it_ , and his cock agreed.

Cassandra leaned in for a bruising kiss, one hand at Varric's neck, the other sliding down to toy with the thick hair on his chest.

“You sure you want to do this?” Varric asked when they came up for air. He didn't want her to change her mind, to snap her out of whatever this was, but he had to know.

“Yes.” Cassandra closed a loose fist in his chest hair, peppered kisses down his jaw line. “I am sure.”

“Fantastic,” he said, clapping both hands onto the Seeker's ass and pulling her closer. Cassandra squeaked—squeaked!—but seemed perfectly satisfied to assist him in removing her vest and tunic, shrugging off the last of it to reveal her breasts, ample and rounded and at just the right height...

Varric laved at one dusky nipple, eliciting a moan from Cassandra that went straight to his groin. He cupped the other breast as he sucked lightly, running his thumb over the nipple, feeling it stiffen. Cassandra's gasps and sounds of pleasure increased as he picked up the pace, giving the other breast similar attentions. Varric leaned back after a few minutes and Cassandra worked at the sash around his waist, pulling it loose and tossing it to the floor. Her hands returned to his chest, rubbing and exploring, dragging through the hair as she kissed his neck.

Varric chuckled when she pulled away for a moment. “Wanted to do that for a while, I take it?”

Cassandra glared at him, but there was no real heat in it. “I...you have no idea.” She shook her head, looking a little embarrassed. And that simply would not do.

“Me too,” he said, kissing her. Feeling emboldened, he slid a hand down between Cassandra thighs and rubbed over the fabric of her breeches, pressing the heel of his hand where he knew the friction would be sweetest. She gasped sharply against his mouth, but he could feel her hips tilting toward him, seeking more.

Things became more frantic then, more heated. Varric's tunic went somewhere, and Cassandra's breeches quickly followed. Cassandra stood to pull them off and with them went her smallclothes, slipping them down her legs and stepping out of them before returning to Varric's lap and okay, yes, this was really happening. Varric ran a hand up Cassandra's thigh, teasing where it met her hip as she shifted impatiently, then finally slid his fingers up along her opening, testing the wetness there. The sounds she made as he rubbed at her slick folds were sin itself, increasing as he slid one finger inside and crooked at the sensitive wall there.

“Varric,” she said. “Please... Just... fuck me.”

The words that escaped Cassandra's mouth, hoarse and desperate, were just about the last that Varric would ever have expected to hear from her. He mentally added this evening to his list of “Things That Have Happened to Varric Tethras That No One Would Ever Believe.” It seemed too unlikely even for one of his stories...not that he would ever write about this, not even with the names and circumstances changed. Even he had his limits. Also, he was pretty sure Cassandra would kill him. Messily.

“Can do,” Varric said cheerfully. Gently he guided Cassandra to lie back against the chaise. She watched, half-lidded, as he untied his breeches and freed his cock—apparently impatient, she pulled him down, Varric very nearly losing his balance and tumbling them both down to the rug.

“Easy,” he said, laughing. Holding his cock with one hand, Varric brushed against her entrance, pressing in slowly as she wrapped her legs around his back. When Cassandra had adjusted, Varric sheathed himself fully, drawing a nipple into his mouth as he began to thrust. He groaned as Cassandra dragged her fingers down his back, quickly realizing that despite his age, this probably was not going to take long. Even with his occasional dalliances with Bianca, it had...been a while. Varric pressed kisses to Cassandra's breasts and the flat, muscular planes of her stomach, picking up the pace.

True to his suspicions, it was only a few minutes later when Varric could feel his orgasm building and tightening. Cassandra lifted her hips and gasped as he hit a sensitive spot inside, and he focused on that until she shuddered beneath him, soft moans sending Varric that last bit over the edge. He slid his cock out at the last second, spilling with a groan over Cassandra's stomach.

The world snapped back into focus as Varric cast about for something to clean up with. Grimacing, he settled on his cast-aside tunic, which really needed a wash anyway. Cassandra watched him, looking sleepy and sated.

“Hey,” he said, “you can stay if you like. You can take the bed...”

Cassandra shook her head slowly. Raising up onto her elbows, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I must return to my quarters. This was...nice.” The word felt almost flat, her tone awkward. She had clearly enjoyed herself, but Cassandra was still Cassandra. She gathered her clothing from where it had been discarded, dressing stiffly.

“It really was,” Varric agreed. He had slipped his breeches back on and lounged against the chaise, watching her. Cassandra paused at the door, one hand holding it open.

“If you speak of this,” she said. “To anyone...”

Varric smiled ruefully. 

“Not a word, Seeker. Not a word.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the livejournal Dragon Age Kink Meme.  
> Prompt: "Varric/Cassandra, sexy talk - Varric deliberately talking about sex and alluding to all kind of sexy things until Cassandra's so hot and bothered that she can't hold herself back any longer. Great sex happens."


End file.
